The Four Spent the Day Together is populated with protagonists pursuing clean slates, attempting to leave behind drugs or abusive marriages, only to find hope curdling into violence. Chris Kraus frequently uses the phrase "clean slate", making it deliberately jaded through recurring use. Sentences like "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They opted for a clean break" appear throughout the story. At the same time, the author herself is embarking on her individual reinvention, since this presents as a novel form of writing – observational, truly literary. But then it turns out to be packed with the familiar conflicts and aesthetics as earlier books.
From Accidental Writer to Iconic Work
Kraus started out as an creative who became a writer somewhat by chance with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, which was composed of missives to a distant beloved, elevating intimate women's literature from abjection into assassination. She kept producing books, but the next trio of compelling and abrasive novels missed the shock and immediacy that the epistolary style brought to the voice of I Love Dick. It didn't help was her position as a renegade artist who had turned into a extensive real estate holder, so there was considerable focus on property transactions. It is logical that she currently desires to try out new kinds of material, directing her gaze to other people's stories, at a moment when she claims that contemporary political climate renders personal narrative unnecessary.
Three Generations, One Unescapable Past
The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, encompassing multiple eras – each trapped by their backgrounds. There is the story of characters Emma and Jasper, based on her own mother and father, moving from the Bronx to rural Connecticut. There is the story of Kraus herself, in the guise of Catt Greene, grappling with the delayed acclaim of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her substance-dependent spouse her husband Paul. The third thread involves the account of a killing of one troubled youth by another in a community largely deserted by progressive politics only a short distance from Catt's cottage in a remote part of Minnesota.
As a reader drawn to refined literature of the sort Kraus tends to eschew, I was seduced by the novelistic voice of the opening part.
As a reader who appreciates crafted language of the style that the author tends to eschew, I was seduced by the novelistic voice of the initial part. It possesses a new quality of attentiveness that makes room for trivial aspects, like the pail that the young Catt pries out of frozen water at the opening of the book, aided by her adored dad. "Look, an ice toy!" she declares; "a lovely toy", he replies, "the nuanced interpretations of terms rolling around in their mouths like hard candy". Kraus writes the tale of Emma with curiosity and intimacy. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not precisely her dream."
Disappointment and Disjunction
I was destined to be disappointed when I expected this fresh tone could continue through the novel. Kraus notes here that she resents the satisfaction audiences such as myself have derived from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to disjunction, to the messy artistic approach she echoes from her inspiration author Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her past books returns in the middle section. The protagonist is attempting to do up multiple decrepit residences in the most troubled areas of Albuquerque while shuttling between two different states, unable to aid her husband control his drinking. She experiences powerlessness as Paul cycles through poorly supported positions as an substance abuse counselor in a environment propelled by the rage and anxiety that drives a political win. A significant portion discusses about Catt's social media ostracism on a platform, her occupation changed from "novelist" to "real estate holder" on the online encyclopedia. The author still appears to be overly concerned about this. In a moment she states that she's investigating the murder so that before exiting the region, "she may grasp something about an the nation that her online critics would fail to comprehend, would overlook entirely".
The Killing Story
Thus we arrive to the murder itself – and the titular day experienced by the deceased with the murderer and his companions. Kraus utilizes compelling foundational content, and details moment by moment what happened when Brandon came to meet Brittney after encountering her on a platform where she sold sex pictures. He was hoping for sex but seems amiably to have occupied the day with her companions, mooching around getting his car mended and covering the cost of food and substances, before being shot by Brittney's boyfriend Micah – a youth with psychological issues who has frequently been hospitalised for fits of anger.
Preoccupation and Open Ends
The protagonist becomes fixated by the account, and I was fascinated by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards ethical reporting and audacious rule-breaking clash in this segment. But I'd have liked her to go further into her personal fixations here. The compelling persona is Brittney herself, who comes alive partly through Catt's identification with her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman going off the rails in a troubled, forgotten town. Kraus notes that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in prison, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. The whole section feels curiously unresolved, to the extent that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par
